


Seven Minutes in Heaven: Gay Chicken Edition — A Tale of Seijou

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Gay Chicken, Kunimi is devious and Kindaichi has a crush, M/M, Seven Minutes In Heaven, tbh this is only funny if you're a gross trash baby like me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:39:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10411323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Kindaichi's teammates wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, so he and Kunimi gave them what they asked for and then some.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crystalemi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalemi/gifts).



> This story is a HQ Rarepair Exchange 2017 gift for @crystalemi.
> 
> This is exactly as salacious as it sounds. I'm...not sure I'm even sorry at this point.

As the bottle spun slower and slower, Kindaichi could feel his palms slicken with more nervous sweat than he was sure he’d ever shed in his life. He didn’t know what madness had made him agree to play this asinine game — Seven Minutes In Heaven: Gay Chicken Edition.

It had started as a harmless suggestion from one of the second years, citing it as a way to get someone else to pay for a round of drinks at the vending machine at their Golden Week training camp facility. All someone had to do to make it past their turn was spend seven minutes in a cramped mop closet with another person. What they did in there was up to them as long as no one left or tried to open the door before time was called.

Then an avalanche of ‘extra’ rules started to pile up. If you took a selfie of you and the other guy kissing and showed it to all the players, you could make the turn in the closet for the next people last an extra minute. One spin of a bottle decided your closet partner, and the second spin landed on the person who would choose whether you had the lights on or off. As each new rule was tacked on, Kindaichi rapidly regretted his decision to agree to play.

And during his first spin, Kindaichi felt like throwing up as the bottle slowed at just the right rate to land on the one person he didn’t want to be trapped in a closet with. Well, he did, but not like this. Not with Kunimi.

But fate and fortune were not siding with him that day as the bottle drifted to a stop pointing directly at Kunimi. No mistakes, no quibbling. There was zero way to avoid this, and Kindaichi felt like the kindest death at the moment was a tossup between a stray asteroid landing on him and freak lightning strike. Maybe both, just in case.

He gulped as he and Kunimi both stood and headed for the closet, Kunimi taking his hand and dragging him into the cramped little room that one of the first years decided should be lights on after Kunimi, who had never been a fan of the dark, sent him a withering glare. Kindaichi wouldn’t have minded the lights off at all so he didn’t have to look Kunimi in the eye. 

Not the one person in the world he actually wanted to kiss.

The door closed with a cold finality that made Kindaichi shiver. He couldn’t back out, not when he was a third year and the team’s ace, playing alongside first years. He feared they would never respect him if he couldn’t do this one simple thing with a guy he had known for a decade. He didn’t even have to kiss Kunimi. He just wasn’t certain he could make it seven minutes without letting it slip to Kunimi, who could read him like a book, that he wanted to.

However, once they were inside, Kunimi sighed and rolled his eyes. “This is boring.”

Kindaichi wrestled a smile onto his face and eked out, “Yeah. Boring.”

He could see Kunimi watching him for a harrowing ten seconds before he raised a brow. “You’re actually nervous.”

“No, I’m —” Kindaichi sighed heavily, covering his reddening face. “Yeah. I hate this and I want to die.”

A wicked smirk crossed Kunimi’s face. “If you want this to end, I know how to do that.”

“Oh?” Kindaichi watched in earnest while Kunimi moved over to face the door, bumping his chest into it before letting out a long, pornographic (he swore he only looked for a second!) moan. 

The titters and whispers on the outside abruptly ceased, and Kunimi looked over his shoulder and eyes the door expectantly. Realizing what Kunimi was asking him to do, Kindaichi cleared his throat and mimicked the closest thing to a growl he could manage, “Get on your knees.”

Nodding in agreement, Kunimi shuffled around to give Kindaichi room to bang on the door as he tugged the zipper of his hoodie down about halfway. He pressed his face against the door and, pulling back his overlong jacket sleeves, shoved two of his fingers in his mouth. Soon, wet choking sounds flooded the little room that made Kindaichi forget where they were for a moment. Almost too late, he remembered to rhythmically thump the door with his hip, mentally visualizing the cadence and motions of thrusting himself into Kunimi’s wet, hot —

Oh, crap.

Kindaichi’s eyes widened as his lower half forgot the game and sprang to light, pressing against the front of his track bottoms until he could feel the netted lining through the thin fabric of his underwear. “Shit,” he gasped, not caring that it added to the lewd cacophony Kunimi was producing and hoped that his best friend of several years decided not to look down.

Kindaichi never was that lucky. His entire skin burned beet red as Kunimi looked down to get an eyeful of Kindaichi’s tented trousers, and even with fingers jammed into his mouth, he smirked. Yanking out his fingers, Kunimi panted, “Please pull my hair. Please.”

He fluttered his hand, passing on the baton for Kindaichi to say in a remarkably steady voice, “Only if you take it all.” Kunimi resumes slurping his fingers, only changing his rhythm to let out a wet cough. He pointed his other hand at Kindaichi, who cottoned on to say, “Good boy.”

Glad to have something to concentrate on other than his erection, Kindaichi resumed his soft thumps and muttered encouragements of ‘oh fuck’ and ‘don’t stop’ until Kunimi tapped on his busy wrist to indicate that time was nearly up. Knowing he had to ‘finish’, as well as discourage his happier appendage from making an appearance, Kindaichi cupped his hands over his junk and drove his hips over and over into the door with a pained grunt punctuating every thrust that may or may not have been a little bit real. 

“Big finish,” Kunimi hissed after pulling out his fingers, and without warning he pulled back the collar of Kindaichi’s t-shirt and sank his teeth into the unsuspecting flesh. Kindaichi’s roar was genuine as he banged his fist on the wall, trying to slake the tears springing into his eyes as he fought off the pain of the bite mark and his battered junk.

He watched in agonized surprise while Kunimi shuffled around in his hoodie pocket and produced a half-drunk bottle of his favorite milk tea, taking a drink and swishing it around in his mouth before recapping the bottle and returning it to his pocket. Kindaichi wasn’t sure the purpose was other than choking himself for seven minutes must have been thirsty work for Kunimi, who seemed no worse for wear as he jerked his zipper back up.

A few seconds later, a shaking first year opened the door and every single guy in the room stared at them both with a mixture of shock, horror, and a little bit of awe as they exited. There was a chorus of gasps, and Kindaichi turned just in time to see Kunimi stick out his tongue and show the coating of slimy white foam before licking his lips and swallowing it, dashing up a stray drop with one pert finger before flicking his hand in dismissal. “We win. Nobody beats me at gay chicken.”

The rest of the guys nodded in unison as Kunimi linked his elbow with Kindaichi’s and dragged him toward the door leading to the hallway. Once they were clear, Kunimi frowned and tugged away Kindaichi’s collar to inspect his shoulder. “I hope that didn’t hurt too much. I was going for broke and got caught up in it.”

Kindaichi draped himself against the wall and chuckled because he had no idea how else to feel. “How did you know that would work?”

“Sometimes you have to —” Kunimi’s breath gusted across Kindaichi’s maimed shoulder. “— make it work. Especially if your best friend would rather pretend to mess around than just kiss you.” 

Kunimi released his hold on Kindaichi in favor of leaning on the wall alongside him. “The way I figure,” he started, “is that it could be one of three things: One, you find the idea of kissing a guy repulsive; two, you find  _ me  _ repulsive; three, you actually would kiss me, but literally under any other circumstances besides those.” He turned to quirk a brow at Kindaichi. “Would one of those perhaps be true?”

The coward who lived in Kindaichi’s gut demanded that he deny it, deny all three of them, as long as Kunimi would stop looking at him like that, but the longer he took to answer, the more Kunimi’s face fell and his chin dropped. “Oh.”

Panic bubbled in Kindaichi’s brain until he did the only thing he could think of to do to erase that hurt expression from Kunimi’s face for sure — he framed Kunimi’s face in his hands and crushed their lips together. Kunimi’s eyes flew open in surprise, but soon his lashes fluttered closed as he groaned into Kindaichi’s mouth.

As they eased apart, Kindaichi could feel Kunimi’s smile against his mouth before he saw it; he was totally being laughed at.

“Hey, don’t be like that. You know how weird that was for me.”

Shaking his head, Kunimi rolled his eyes. “I knew that was a real boner.” He chortled and nodded in the direction of their sleeping quarters. “Besides, even though everyone on the team thinks you’re hella gay now, there won’t be a single one of that who doesn’t think you’re a beast.”

As Kindaichi watched Kunimi stroll back to their dorm room, chugging what was left of his milk tea, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he jogged after. He had boss-leveled Seven Minutes in Heaven, kissed his crush, and lived to tell both tales. If that wasn’t a good start to his final training camp of his high school career, he wasn’t sure what was.


End file.
